"He's getting away," Harper huffed as the distinctive whine of a shuttle's engines powering up flowed through the air.
"Not for long." I lifted my wrist comm, my voice steady despite the adrenaline thundering through my veins. "Captain Adtovar, we've rescued Harper and several others. The human male behind the Consortium is fleeing in a Trogvyk shuttle, likely heading for orbit."
"We will move to intercept," came the clipped reply, followed by the sound of orders being barked in the background. "Good work, Xabat."
I turned to Harper. Now that the immediate threat had passed, the full weight of what nearly happened crashed over me like a tidal wave. I'd come so close to losing her.
"Are you hurt?" My hands moved over her, checking for injuries with trembling fingers that traced along her arms, her sides, searching for any sign of damage.
"I'm fine." She caught my hands, her smaller fingers wrapping around mine and stilling my frantic exploration. "Xabat, I'm okay."
I pulled her against my chest, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly, feeling the solid warmth of her body pressed against mine, the rapid flutter of her heartbeat against my chest. I breathed in her scent, the sweetness and spice tinged with sweat and dirt, but still uniquely Harper.
Real. Safe. Mine.
"You were magnificent," I murmured into her hair, my lips brushing against the tangled strands. "My fierce little warrior."
She laughed, the sound slightly shaky, vibrating through both our bodies. "I was married to a cop, remember. He insisted on teaching me self-defense."
"And I will be grateful that he taught you to protect yourself until my dying day." I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, my hands framing her face, thumbs stroking across her cheekbones.
Rickon approached, wiping blood from his blade with swipes against his pants leg, the gore smearing across the dark fabric. From somewhere behind me, Cristox emerged, shaking blood and shredded flesh from his claws. Harper regarded them both with an expression that held no trace of fear, only curiosity and gratitude—an attitude that continued when I made quick introductions.
The remaining Trogvyk and human soldiers lay scattered across the clearing like discarded puppets, bodies twisted in unnatural angles of death, dark pools spreading beneath them. Cristox's golden eyes swept the battlefield before settling on us, his leonine features spattered with the evidence of combat.
"The compound," he rumbled, pointing toward a concrete building in the distance. "I found a holding cell on the lower level. Eleven human females, all alive." His expression softened slightly. "Frightened, but unharmed."
Harper's breath caught audibly, and she pulled away from me just enough to gaze at Cristox. "Eleven? Did you find a girl named Ana and her brother Sebastian? I think they were being kept in the main house."
"We'll find them," Rickon interjected, folding his massive wings against his back with a leathery rustle as he moved closer.
"Check every room," I ordered, though my brothers needed no such instruction. They were already moving.
Harper's hand shot out with surprising speed, her fingers catching Cristox's arm before he could turn away. He pausedmid-step, his form going still as he looked down at where her small human hand rested on his blood-streaked forearm.
"Wait," she said, her voice carrying a note of pleading. "Your devices—the ones that make you look human." Her eyes darted between Cristox and Rickon, apologetic but firm. "Those women have been through hell. If they see you like this...." She trailed off, but we all understood.
Rickon's expression flickered with something that might have been regret, a shadow passing across his features, but he nodded. "Of course." He reached for the small device at his belt, and within seconds, his wings vanished, replaced by a more human appearance—still tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing, but no longer the stuff of nightmares.
Cristox did the same, his leonine features melting and shifting into something more conventionally human, the thick mane and golden eyes remaining. "We'll be gentle with them," he promised Harper, his voice softer now.
As they headed toward the compound, Harper turned back to me. I couldn't help but cup her face in my hands, my palms cradling her jaw, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my touch.
"My little warrior," I murmured, brushing my lips against hers in a kiss that was equal parts relief and reverence.
Harper sighed against my lips, the sound soft and weary, leaning into me. "Can we go home now?"
The word struck something deep in my chest. Home. Did she mean the beach house? My throat tightened with sudden emotion, constricting until I could barely breathe. Of course, that's what she meant. After everything she'd just endured, she'd want to return somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. Somewhere human.
"Yes," I said, though the word felt heavy on my tongue. "I can take you to the beach house. You'll be safe there, and...."
"No." Harper's fingers curled into my armor, her grip surprisingly strong. "That's not what I mean."
I stilled, every muscle in my body going rigid as I searched her face, trying to read her expression. "Where do you want to go, my mate?" I'd take her anywhere she wished—and remain by her side.
She gazed up at me, her eyes fierce despite the exhaustion etched in every line of her body. "With you." Her hand moved to rest over my heart, her palm pressing flat against where my heart thundered beneath. "Wherever you go, that's where I want to be."
Chapter 18
